


Without Condition

by TashanaAmbrosia



Series: Rules of the Mexican Honeymoon [4]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, F/M, Kate's trying to figure herself out, Light Dom/sub, Post Season 3, Post-Amaru (From Dusk Till Dawn), Seth and Kate freeform, Seth likes to talk, Seth's trying to figure out how to help, SethKate - Freeform, Sex, fluff at the end, like super light - I promise, payoff to this painful journey I put you through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashanaAmbrosia/pseuds/TashanaAmbrosia
Summary: Post Season Three and the follow up piece to "Please; This Is As Far As We Go" and "Four Minutes Of Self Destruction." You don't need to read the others for this to make sense, but it will be more meaningful if you have.After Amaru and preventing the apocalypse Kate is trying to figure out how she belongs into her skin and what the hell 'four minutes' means. She wants to reclaim her body and she wants Seth to help, but she's afraid she won't be able to handle it.





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Without Condition**

 

 

She came to and all she could smell was Seth Gecko. The scent of him was in the pillow under her head, the shirt she was wearing, and the blankets that covered her: it was gun oil, ivory soap, and an earthy-sweat that she was all too familiar with. The scent of him in the driver seat in the burning Mexican sun, lying next to (but not touching) her on a cheap motel bed, running with her after he’d pulled a job with adrenalin making his eyes wild, cleaning his gun with distracted precision, holding her after a nightmare and breathing into her skin that one night…. _Four minutes_. She ground her teeth together and tried to keep her breathing even and calm. That phrase, that phrase in Seth’s voice meant pain, it meant torture. She tried to remember where she was… She was at Jed’s the memories of how she got here were blurry, but they were there.

She had collapsed in the church, staring at the stains her own blood had made on the floor. She started to sob and scream as the weight of everything that her body had done without her permission flooded back in a rush. She ached physically and mentally and while she didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to be. She had lost her ability to stay upright, but before she could hit the floor, a solid frame pulled her close. She’d caught the scent of blood and smoke – Richie had caught her and Seth’s eyes were on her; that knowledge had been enough to allow her brain to shut down. She had been nervous when they got to Jed’s, but with one Gecko on either side of her, she’d gotten down to the living quarters.

She’d showered in Seth’s bathroom, scrubbing with his ivory soap, washing her hair with his two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, and rubbing the non-scented lotion into her skin. She’d dressed in the oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts the Geckos had given her. She’d sat on Seth’s bed, while Richie wiped the remnants of the dark make-up from her face and Seth treated her open wounds. Richie had wanted to ask her questions, she’d seen it in his eyes, every time they’d made eye-contact, but he didn’t say anything. Seth wouldn’t meet her eyes; he kept his hands busy and continuously explained what he was doing to her as he did it. They made her drink some kind of protein shake, before they let her lay down and then it was dark.

She lifted her bandaged wrist to look at it as she came back to the reality of where she was. She was surrounded by that scent that was both comforting and not all at the same time.

“Hey.”

She looked up and there he was looking down at her, sitting next to her on the bed. There was music playing softly something old, like a soundtrack to one of his favorite movies and he was holding a book in his hands. Seth liked the read Westerns, she remembered that from before. Remembered it from when it was the two of them bouncing around Mexico and neither of them knew what they were doing with themselves or each other. _Four minutes…_ She winced preparing to block out all the torment that normally followed that phrase, but her tormentor was now only phantom in her head.

“Who are you reading?” She asked, because she didn’t want to answer the question that was on the tip of his tongue. She didn’t want to answer: how are you? Because she was horrible and dead, but somehow wonderful and alive all at the same time. That bitch was out of her head and Kate was in control of her own body, but she felt like a stranger in the driver’s seat, almost like she’d been a passenger too long to remember how to properly drive.

And she didn’t know if she was okay. Was she okay? She didn’t feel okay. She felt gutted; like a stranger in her own skin. She felt anger and rage and hatred and… _I don’t forgive you. I don’t forgive you for taking my family into that death trap. I don’t forgive you for breaking my heart. I don’t forgive you for abandoning me on the side of the road. I don’t forgive you for the part you played in turning me into that monster that hurt all of those people. I don’t forgive you; but I somehow do. I do forgive you because I felt your pain; your remorse; and something else… I somehow… forgive you._ Part her knew that had he known what that death trap was, he would have let them go. But she didn’t want to think about any of it, so she asked him what he was reading.

“Louis L'Amour.”

She nodded and tried to sit up on her own, but she faltered and suddenly his hands were on her elbows, supporting her, easing her back against the headboard. He was solid. He was trying to make sure that she felt secure; felt safe. And even though there were so many things running through her head, so many warning bells and so much anger, yet she still felt safe under his touch.

“You good?”

She nodded again, not sure how else to respond. “Daddy like L’Amour.”

It was Seth’s turn to nod.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her voice felt disused. She hadn’t noticed before, but her throat hurt and her mouth felt dry. She coughed a little and Seth handed her a bottle of water.

“About eighteen hours.”

She drank greedily from the bottle and Seth’s expression betrayed the fact that he wanted her to slow down, but he said nothing. They were at this crossroads, because they were both worried about each other and they were both worried about her. She didn’t know how she fit into the skin that she was currently wearing. She just wanted some peace. She was overcome with the worry that even though she chose to come with the Geckos this might not be the place she should be. Again she didn’t want to say the thing that she was thinking so instead she commented quietly, “I took your bed.”

“I don’t mind. I’d share the covers with you anytime, Princess.”

And it was supposed to be light it was supposed to make her laugh or smile, she could tell, but it didn’t. The phrase instead sent a searing pain into her mind as the memories of his cruelty flared up. Her tone was flat, emotionless as she made her one-worded statement.

“Lair.”

He blinked at her and opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.

“I’m just a kid that crawled into your bed, remember?” There wasn’t any malice in her voice; she didn’t have the energy for it. She felt like she should start to cry, but was sure she didn’t any tears left. “I was…I was a distraction. That night didn’t really mean anything to you.” _Four minutes._ She clamped her eyes closed and drew in a long slow breath.

“Kate…” He implored…pleaded? Since when did Seth Gecko plead?

“Do you know how she broke me? What she did to control me? How she kept me imprisoned in my own mind?” Her fingers gripped her own hair tugging slightly, the pain centering her. She looked into Seth’s eyes and while he didn’t move, but she could tell he wanted to. “She would take my memories and twist them.”

“She took my memory of the first night after the Twister, when we were in the shower together… In that nightmare when you checked my thigh, but you were bit and you turned right in front of me. You drained me until I was too weak to fight you, then you raped me and tore out my throat. In another one you made me shoot Hannah and Sarah and rob them. In one I shoot you up all wrong and you OD and it’s all my fault. You seize and spasm; and you die in my arms. But the worst…”

“Kate.”

“No. You are going to listen to me. Because you have to know, so you can make it make sense.” She narrowed her eyes. “The worst one, she didn’t even have to change, but it’s the worst memory. You breaking my heart… I trusted you, even… We had sex and then you…You forced me to put that gun on you. What was wrong with you?”

_Four minutes…What did it mean?!?_

She grabbed his arm. “I only saw flashes of the memories when she drew on souls. And with you I heard this phrase: four minutes…”

Seth tried to pull away, but she dug her nails into his forearm and he flinched, pausing his retreat.

“You don’t get to run from this.” Her lip quivered, tears ran down her face. It hurt so badly. Those memories hurt; the real ones more than manufactured ones. “Every time I heard that in my head, she’d punish me; flood the worst images into my mind, all the darkest parts of Xibalba. _You_ are going to tell me what the _hell_ four minutes means!” Her voice cracked as it got louder. “Tell me! Tell me it means something! Why did that run through your head?!? What could it possibly…”

“That’s how fucking long I let myself keep you.” He ripped his arm away and grabbed her face with both hands. “After we slept together you said you loved me and I panicked. I knew I couldn’t let you love me, because….” He cleared his throat, “I laid there and let myself imagine for four minute that I was going to keep you.” He drew a ragged breath and leaned his forehead against hers. “I imagined you by my side as my partner. White dress, Raybans, all my best lines, and my ring on your hand, and fuck…Fuck Katie, I imaged everything a house on a beach and…”

“Then why?”

“Because I destroy everything and everyone I touch. I ruin them. I couldn’t ruin you. I couldn’t risk you. I loved you and I didn’t know how. I loved you too much to… to risk…” He paused as she touched his cheek, he leaned into the contact. “It was so stupid, how I handled it… so fucking selfish.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he pulled her closer, hot breath on her neck it felt like he was crying.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He croaked.

Gone was the confidence, the apathy, the bravado… No speeches, no one-liners… All the guilt and remorse that she’d felt when Amaru pulled on his soul flooded back into her. She let out a sob, and tightened her grip on him, but she had no words.

“I cussed in your church… buried your cross. Kate, I never forgot you. I spent four minutes a day reminding myself why you died. All the hell I put you through…I killed you.  Sure as if I pulled the trigger; I killed you. If I woulda put you back in that RV after the Twister, or let your family go after we got there, or fucking left your family alone in the first place. What the hell was I thinking!?”

“Survival.” Kate whispered, “People do horrible things to survive.”

He pulled away from her and ran his hands over his face.

“Seth.” She cupped his jaw with her hand. “Look at me.”

His eyes were bloodshot, crying was not something Seth did and yet…

“You didn’t kill me. I’m not dead.” She swallowed hard. She reached for his hand and pressed it against her chest as she pressed her hand over his heart. “And against all sense: I forgive you.”

Lighter; she felt lighter. A weight was gone; it was as if that moment of letting go of some of that anger somehow gave her back a piece of herself. Forgiveness without cost. Love without condition. Her mind was racing and she would have analyzed it further, but Seth’s hands were on her face again, wiping tears away.

She looked up into his eyes and was sure she’d lost the ability to breathe a moment as he wondered aloud, “You forgive me?”

“I forgive you.” She confirmed and wanted to nod, but it was too much to move. The weightlessness of forgiving him was replaced with something stronger, something more powerful. Something she felt for a fleeting few hours in a Mexican motel room; something that she’d wanted so badly to believe was real. _Did you really love me too? Even just in those four minutes; did you love me? I need to believe that you loved me. Because I loved you and I think I still do somehow…Somehow I still…_

“I can’t take anything else from you.” He was so close they were breathing the same air, his lips dusting over cheek.

“It was freely given.” She whispered.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

She felt her body tremble, against his and he found her hands grasping them tightly. “It’s mine to give.” They looked at each other again and she swallowed hard. “I need to reclaim everything.”

He inclined his head, “Can I help?”

“I need another shower. Will you… Can…” She wished her voice was stronger, wished she could just say what she needed. She was grasping at straws, only guessing what might help her feel better. This idea that she had running through her head, it might be a terrible idea, but she needed… she just needed. She needed to feel; needed to be in the driver’s seat of her own damn body. All she could think about were the moments when Seth had grounded her before, maybe if she could relive those moments…maybe.

“Let’s go get you in the shower.” He helped her off the bed and into his bathroom.

The things she’d washed with before were sitting on the back of the toilet. She wanted to ask the question, but her throat was tight again and she didn’t trust herself to speak. Seth had turned the shower on and tested the water.

“There’s stuff in there for ya.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” She admitted.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He turned his back to her and stood facing the door.

She had reached for the hem of her shirt and muttered, “It’s not like you haven’t seen me before.” She dropped her clothes to the floor, but paused at the shower curtain as he spoke.

“Don’t mean I have the right to again.” He was still facing the door, posture stiff.

She should have felt more awkward being naked in the same room with him, or at least a little self-conscious, but she didn’t. She wasn’t sure why, but the idea of reclaiming those stolen moments was so much more important than modesty. She touched his shoulders and he glanced back at her, his eyes not straying from hers.

“This is a terrible idea.” He grumbled, “I shouldn’t…”

“We’ve already done this.” She cut him off challenging his need to protect her honor? Her purity? Her innocence? Those things were long gone, like the girl in the church pew, who knew nothing of the world’s true darkness. “It’s just a shower. I know it’s stupid, but I…”

“Just get in the damn shower. I’ll be right there.” He huffed as he started to unbutton his shirt.

Had she not been so emotionally drained, she would have rolled her eyes at his attitude. She stepped under the hot spray and closed her eyes as the water hit her. She let it soak into hair and run down her back. She’d taken the last shower on autopilot, this time she let herself enjoy the water pressure and heat. She leaned her forehead against the shower wall as Seth stepped in behind her.

“Tip your head back a little.” He requested and when she complied she smelled coconuts and felt his fingers tangle into her hair.

She remembered this. Remembered it from the first shower they’d taken together the night after the Twister. His hands, despite their calluses and strength, were so gentle as they’d washed the blood away. She was surprised that he’d remembered what shampoo that she used to buy, but then again he prided himself on details. She kept her eyes closed and kept her back to him as he continued washing her hair. She felt like she could breathe just a little better.

“You remembered.” She wondered aloud.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, almost strained.

She felt the washcloth rub over her back and over her stomach. She rested her forehead against the shower wall again and let him continue. “Your hands felt better.”

“My hands on you naked is a profoundly stupid idea.” He growled, but ran his palm down her thigh. Making sure the water rinsed away the soap. “I’m not gonna say no, if this is what you want, but I want you to be sure. Kate, you need to be sure.”

She turned around and looked into his eyes, “Maybe not in the shower.”

He pulled back the curtain for her, “There’s clean clothes for you in the top left drawer. Give me a minute.”

She nodded and climbed out of the shower. She rubbed his unscented lotion into her skin and wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out of the bathroom. She opened the drawer Seth told her look in and found it full of clothes in her size: two tank-tops, a soft grey t-shirt, underwear, a sports bra, a pair of pink sleep shorts and a pair of black yoga pants. It was an odd thing to be overwhelmed by, but just like him remembering her favorite scents, it meant something. She dried off and dressed in one of the tank-tops and sleep shorts, before braiding back her hair. She rewrapped her wrists before sitting down on the bed as Seth walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry, I just need to grab something to put on.” He jerked open on of the drawers and his towel slipped just enough for Kate to see the edge of the new tattoo.

She advanced on him, before she even realized that she was moving and brushed her fingers over the top of his bare hip, making him jump.

“Christ, Kate. I’m gonna put a bell on you.” He warned.

She sort of heard his bellyaching, but she was focused on the tattoo and the little triangle knot in the crucifix’s chain. “You tattooed _my_ cross on your hip.”

“Told you; I buried yours.” He covered her hand with his. He was so warm, so real. “I couldn’t let myself keep you; needed to let it go, but I didn’t want to forget.”

“Can I see the rest of it?”

He sighed and just let the towel drop to the ground. He never really cared much about modesty.

She traced the chain with her fingers, pausing at the triangle knot, then continuing to the cross at the end. His muscles twitched as she touched him and he inhaled sharply. “This is a sensitive place to have tattooed and it’s so detailed. Did it hurt?” She traced it again, stopping on top of his hipbone.

“Been through worse.” He covered her hand with his again, but cleared his throat. “I should get some clothes on.”

She shook her head and tugged his hand, silently coaxing him to follow her. He complied, something unguarded in his expression as he sat on the edge of the bed. She straddled him, settling on his lap and he hissed, palms framing her clothed thighs.

“Fuck, Kate.” His voice was guttural and she could feel him harden beneath her, even with her shorts between them. “What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders and pressed her forehead to his, as he’d done during his confession. “I want this. I want you. To touch, to feel to again.”

He surged forward, capturing her lips, hands delving under her top to find her bare skin. It was too much. His hands scorched her flesh, her whole body tremored and he stilled. “Talk to me.  If you’re not…”

“I need to be in charge. I need to drive.” She blurted out, unsure of how to phrase it right. She felt like an idiot. She was waiting for him to laugh, but his hands smoothed circles on her back, putting her tank-top between them.

“Okay. Your show.” His molten brown eyes were so damn intoxicating.

She trailed her hands down his chest, fingers exploring the scars that covered his toned body. She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and finally she brushed her lips over his carefully exploring. When she nipped at his lower lip, his tongue darted out reflexively and she chased it, whimpering as he allowed her access to his mouth. This is what she needed. She needed him, she needed to take him.  She was immersed in his taste: whiskey and water, as she rolled her hips seeking some relief to the ache she was creating.

Seth made a strangled sound and had abandoned touching her all together, his hands white-knuckle clenching the bedspread.

“Are you okay?” She breathed against his neck.

He nodded closing his eyes, seeming determined to endure a silent submission to her and her pace.

She mapped the tattoo on his neck with her tongue, one of the things she’d always wanted to do. His body jerked under hers, he was already hard and her attentions made him stiffen even more. She was tempted to let him have his way with her, but she had this lingering fear that if he moved wrong, she’d panic and wouldn’t be able to find herself again.

She stripped off her tank-top and wrapped her arms over his shoulders clinging to him, marveling how she could feel his heart beating. She kissed the junction of his shoulder and his neck. “Your heart’s beating so fast.”

“I have a beautiful, mostly-naked woman on my lap and I’m naked. It doesn’t get much better.” He grunted. “Are you okay?”

She nuzzled against his neck, inhaling the ivory soap that he washed himself in. “When I woke up, all I could smell was you and I wanted it to be real. I was so afraid it wasn’t. Promise me you’re real.”

He angled his head and kissed her cheek, rubbing one hand up and down her back, “I’m real. I’m here.”

She squirmed at his touch, and he stopped immediately, “No, that’s good. I think one hand is okay.” He resumed and she arched into his touch, her nipples hardening against his chest. “Yeah, it’s good.”

He chuckled low, “Good. That’s all I want; just want to make you feel good. Can I kiss you again?”

She pressed her lips against his and let him sip at her mouth, not even trying to quiet her moan as his kiss intensified. He kept his hand skimming over her back, while the other held fast to the comforter. His exploration was almost lazy, as if she wasn’t nearly naked pressed against him.

“Can I touch you?”

She didn’t trust herself; too afraid of own her reaction to risk it. “I want you to watch. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” He managed, his hand on her back stilled, almost as if he didn’t trust himself.  “I can do that.”

She rested back on his lap a little, gave herself enough space to move. She felt exposed, on display, but just like the night at the car in the desert, there was this overpowering need that kept her from feeling ashamed. Her hands drifted to her chest, squeezing and pinching her already sensitive nipples and she whimpered at the sensation.

Seth’s hands moved to her hips, steadying her, making sure she was balanced. “This okay?”

She nodded and continued to touch herself, hips grinding on Seth’s lap, just short of where she really needed to be. She looked down at him and only word that seemed to fit his expression was: hungry as if he’d devour her if she gave him permission. The realization that she was in complete control of him sent an unbridled heat coursing through her entire body, and gooseflesh decorated her skin. She wanted this, wanted all of this, need this, and her core pulsed at the thought of him inside of her. It was so unlike the first and only time they’d been together, while not unwelcomed, he’d taken charge and that had been that, but this time…

She dragged one of her hands away from her breasts and slipped it down past the waistband of her shorts, to tease where she was already wet. She inhaled sharply and bit down on her lower lip as she worked herself with her fingers.

Seth growled and leaned his forehead against her shoulder, kissing her collarbone. “Christ you’re so beautiful. You have no idea how fucking good you look right now. How much I fucking want you. I…”

She didn’t know where the idea came from and it felt so forbidden, so wicked, that she wasn’t even entirely sure that it was her thought. When he started talking she wanted to shush him, so she pulled her finger out of herself and pressed them to his lips. He made a primal sound and licked her fingers, drawing them into his mouth sucking on them.

She felt herself smile and pulled away from him entirely. “Move up on the bed, against the headboard.”

He acquiesced and positioned himself where she requested, but the sinful look in his eyes revealed how much more he wanted to do to her. He was transfixed with her, she was all he wanted.

She slipped out of her shorts and straddled his hips again, this time bare and wet from her own teasing. His cock was rigid and her knuckles grazed it as she stimulated herself. She slipped a second finger into herself and keened out a desperate sound as she bucked on her own hand. The feeling of him so hard and so close was only further inspiration as Seth strained to keep still beneath her, alternating between cursing God and praising her.

Her body was on fire and she knew she wouldn’t last long. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I just want to make you feel good. Run my tongue over your skin, taste every inch of you.” He was panting, a line of sweat dotting his forehead as the strain of being compliant took its toll. Seth was simply not a passive person, being at her command was probably killing him.

She plundered herself and whined at his words, because she knew what it was like to have him taste every inch of her.

“I wanna make you moan, Princess. I don’t deserve it, but I want to hear you call out my name with your legs around my head and my mouth on your pussy. Eat you out until you can’t take any more. Bury myself inside you, fuck you until we both pass out.” He sat up, but kept his hands away from her, as his tongue skimmed the edge of her earlobe, “Cum for me, beautiful. I wanna hear you, Katie.”

She fell apart, but it was a silent scream. Her body quivering and shaking at as she rode out her orgasm with Seth’s smooth voice the soundtrack to her undoing. She lolled against his shoulder, body still flushed as he kissed her at the awkward angle.

With what she could describe as restrained reverence, he trailed his fingers down the ridges of her spine as she rested her slick fingers on his thigh. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She wrapped her hand around his dick, stroking him slowly. “I need this. I need you.” She whimpered.

“Fuck.” He croaked, hand groping for the nightstand fumbling for the drawer. He tore the packaging from the condom and rolled it over himself. His eyes were wild, but he didn’t push, or tempt her away from her request to be in control. “I’m yours.” He assured her, the confession so brutally honest that it took them both by surprise. “I always have been, Kate. I’ve always been yours, _please_.”

She settled on him, gasping at the sensation of him stretching her, filling her in the most intimate way. He was watching her ride him, staring unabashed at her naked body as she tried to find a rhythm. She wanted him to touch her, but if she reacted badly, he’d stop and she might lose her mind if he stopped.  She didn’t want to stop, she wanted more. She could feel this; she felt alive.

He gripped the headboard behind him and used the leverage to plunge up into her.

She cried out his name and rocked her hips to meet him stroke for stroke. His thrusting couldn’t be easy to maintain at the angle he had, but Seth didn’t look anything but pleased with himself as she stared down at him.

“Focus on you, Baby. Just feel it.” He snapped his hips and she bucked back against him. “I dreamed of this, so many nights. I would wake up hard and shaking just thinking about your cunt pulsing on my cock. Fuck, what you do to me, Kate. I’m gonna worship you as long as you’ll let me.”

“Yes.” Her request was breathless. Her body was throbbing, aching as she tried to find her second release. “Take me farther.”

She expected him to throw her down and take control of her, but instead his hands gripped her hips as he aided her movements. His hands found the spot on her back that made her go weak and she tried to pitch forward, but he held her above him. He was still driving into her, his eyes wicked black, the man was pure sin, she was sure of it, and she was just as sure that she wanted it.

“Touch yourself again. Make yourself cum on me. God I wanna feel you let go.”

She rubbed her clit and ground her hips down on him harder, the friction finally getting to the point where she could feel her body start to tighten.

He pounded into her harder, “Fuck that’s it. You feel so good, Kate. Baby, let me hear you scream.”

This time when she crashed over the edge she did scream, she called out his name in some kind of desperate voice that she barely recognized as her own. She rocked her hips over and over as her aftershocks drew him over the edge. Seth cussed and wrapped his arms completely around her as he pulsed and came inside of her. He held her close, breathing heavy as he peppered her face with kisses and smoothed back the errant strands of her hair.

They were eye to eye, and Kate saw the tear run down Seth’s cheek, before she could ask what was wrong. He kissed her softly and his hands cupped her face. “Kathryn Grace, I love you. I’ve never loved anything or anyone very well, but I love you and I…I want to…I want you…”

She kissed him back, saving him from himself. “I love you too, partner.”

 

Fin

 


	2. Epilogue: A Few Miles Down The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small epilogue. Four more minute with Seth. Thank you for reading this series. I appreciate every comment and every kudos. Love to my Loves!!

**Epilogue: A Few Miles Down The Road**

 

He glanced over at the alarm clock: four minutes to seven. Richie explained to him once that human brains seek patterns and it wasn’t that he only looked at the clock at that time it was just that, that was just when his brain noticed it.

Four minutes…

Four minutes used to mean pain and regret, now when he noticed that it was four minutes to the top of an hour, he counted his blessings. Fuck he was a sap sometimes. He looked down at the woman in his arms and decided for hundredth time that he didn’t about being called that and counted his damn blessings.

Her body was pressed against his, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, her legs covered by the sheet. She was and is the pretty little thing on his arm. It’s been a few years and while he’d gone a little grey on the edges, her assuring him that he looked distinguished, she’d only gotten more beautiful. A little more flare to her hips and her face looked older, which was nice, it didn’t look like he’d kidnapped her from a high school anymore. Her hair was brown again, other than a few reddish undertones there was no sign that it ever used to be an unnatural red. The scars that once marred her wrists were now covered with tattoos: matching musical bars patterns, the song was ‘Amazing Grace.’ Her right wrist had ‘7x70’ between the bars and the left wrist the word ‘partners’ in his handwriting.  He had the same word in her handwriting tattooed over his heart. Richie had given him all kinds of shit over that one.

Three minutes…

Three minutes and he smiled about the fact that she was and is his partner. That Los Tres Geckos had been a credible threat for a couple of years. She had worn a white dress, Tom Ford shades, stolen all of his best lines, and proudly smirked at any threat: Bonnie between her two Clydes. She laughed at Richie’s terrible jokes and his brother lovingly called her ‘sis,’ whenever he was picking on her. And their criminal career had, had much better ending. She shifted in her sleep, cozying up to him; legs tangling with his. Her hand traced up his chest, her diamond ring catching the light. He was glad that Richie had helped with that one; he would have gotten something bigger. She was happy with the three small diamonds and the plain band beneath. She was a Gecko. He made her an honest woman, even if she was married to a less-than-honest man, but one that would never lie to her. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her coconut shampoo and honey-almond lotion. She had convinced him to settle too and he’d complained for exactly thirty seconds.

Two minutes…

Two minutes to the top of the hour and he honestly couldn’t believe the life that he had. She did get him to church every once and while. He wasn’t on a first name basis with the Man upstairs, unless he was taking His name in vain, but he figured if Kate was in his life then maybe there was something to this faith thing. They had two boys, twins of all things. Don’t get him started about how that fucking scared the shit out of him at first. He was worried he’d be like his father; what if he ruined them? A very pregnant Kate informed him that if ever started acting like that, she’d Bible-thump his ass back to Kansas. Anthony Jacob was born first and was honestly more like him, a touch dramatic and always up to mischief. Kate has insisted on Anthony – his own mother lacking creativity had given him and Richie the same middle name and Kate wouldn’t hear of another first name; the kid’s middle name an obvious homage to her father. Edward Grant was more of a thinker, shyer than Anthony, and was often awake more than he was asleep. He knew he wanted to honor the man that raised him and Richie, but after a day he couldn’t bring himself to call the kid Eddie. Kate reminded him that plenty of people went by their middle names and Grant was a great classic name. He understood his father even less after his boys were born, because he’d never claim to be a perfect father, hell he messed up all the time, but he’d never intentionally hurt them. He loved them more than he thought he was capable of loving anything.

One minute…

One minute to the top of the hour and he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched and turned his head away from Kate and looked at a pair of hazel eyes. He blinked trying to wake up a little more and the little face got closer. “Hey buddy.” His voice was graveled from lack of sleep; it wasn’t much past dawn.

Kate murmured at the sound of his voice, but it felt like she was still asleep.

“I had a bad dream.” The little boy’s voice cracked as he wiped tears from his own cheeks.

“It’s okay, Grant. Come on up on this side. Let’s let mom sleep okay?”

Grant nodded and scrambled up onto the bed and curling up to Seth. “It was a really scary dream.”

“Well it can’t hurt you now. You know I won’t let anything hurt you.” Seth tapped his son on the nose and the three-year-old nodded solemnly.

The bed shook again and Kate let out a sleepy laugh as another voice piped up, “Grant, you were supposed to wait for me. Mommy, are you awake?”

“Anthony, mommy is always awake.” Kate sat partway up and scooped up their other son. The twins were nearly identical, but Anthony had a scar right above his lip, where he’d fallen against the coffee table when he was learning to walk. “You want to cuddle before breakfast?”

Anthony nodded and Kate settled him against her side, kissing his face making him giggle. Kate scooched back against Seth’s side and winked at him before stealing a kiss. “I love you.”

He looped her around the waist and pulled her as close as he could get her as he settled Grant up on his chest.

The sunlight poured in through the balcony doors, the sea-breeze scented the air, the crashing waves made a rhythmic white noise that could have put a crack addict to sleep and with his boys and his wife in his arms he knew right where he was: fucking El Rey.

“Love you always.”


End file.
